


Mechanical Heart

by cherishedlarry



Series: Dimly Lit In The Dark [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bad Boy Harry, Dark Harry, I'm so sorry, Innocent Louis, It's not a happy ending, M/M, Mild Smut, but i love reading it, cause i hate writing it, i'm such a hypocrite, larry stylinson - Freeform, oh and there's very minimal zarry, so if you're here for that then you should just leave, there's barely any
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:55:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1518128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherishedlarry/pseuds/cherishedlarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School AU where Harry is the brooding bad boy (or, at least that's what everyone thinks) and he meets little, innocent Louis at a party. Feelings are realized too late and, sometimes, love doesn't conquer all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mechanical Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at summaries. Just read it. It's good. I promise. But really sad. I'm sorry. 
> 
> Title taken from Jon D.'s song of the same name. Go check him out on YouTube and iTunes. He's the guy who does all the Harry videos. You've probably seen him before but, really, he's an awesome singer and musician so go check out his music, yo!

“Once upon a time, a few mistakes a-” He slams his hand against the radio knob, stopping the dreadful noise from blasting through his car speakers.

“Fuckin’ Taylor Swift,” he grumbles to himself. Let’s just say, Louis Tomlinson isn’t the biggest fan of Taylor Swift. He finds her annoying, inadequate, and pointless. Her songs are all the same, she always plays the innocent card, and she can’t dance _to save her life_. What even is she? Country? Pop? Shit; that’s what she is.

So it isn’t much of a shock that Louis immediately turns off the awful song once it comes on his (previously) favorite radio station.

He decides to drive the rest of the ten minutes to school in silence, not wanting to risk hearing her again. Even the slight possibility that he could hear 5 Seconds of Summer isn’t enough to make him want to turn the radio back on. And that’s saying a lot.

He seriously needs to put some of his hundreds of CDs into his car. But that requires _effort_ that Louis really doesn’t have. Plus, he normally is content to listen to the radio on his drives to and from school. But, apparently, the radio has decided to betray him this fine morning.

The rest of the ride is filled with silence. Except for Louis’ thoughts. Those are never silent. Louis is dreading, and slightly anxious about, the school day. He hates school and everything that comes along with it. Other than seeing his two best friends Niall and Liam, Louis has absolutely nothing to look forward to. Except it’s Friday. Fridays are grand.

Louis is a free spirit, you see. Likes to do things his own way. Doesn’t like living by the constraints of his teachers. So whenever they give the boy prompts to write on or certain lengths his papers have to be, well, Louis doesn’t exactly like it.

But no matter how much Louis hates what he’s being told to do, he still does everything. Does everything perfectly, in fact. Louis isn’t exactly what you would call a “nerd” though. He still likes to go out every once in a while but he never would claim to be the life of the party. Because Louis has his priorities in order and knows when he reaches his limits. He puts his studies first (no matter how much he despises them) and you certainly would never find him throwing up all the alcohol he drank the night before in someone’s rosebush.

Louis has friends (more acquaintances than anything though) but he isn’t included in one of those huge groups that you see in most Hollywood blockbusters about high school.

People are civil to him at least. It’s not like Louis is bullied or anything. Thank God. Because Louis is pretty much the least violent person you will ever meet so standing up to a bully wouldn’t exactly be possible for him. But he’s still pushed aside by most of his peers. And, sometimes, that hurts just as much as a punch in the face.

Dread pulses through him as he pulls into his usual parking spot at the back of the lot. Grabbing his backpack off the passenger seat that tends to hold more items than passengers on the daily, he lets out a deep breath before climbing gracefully (or maybe not so much) out of his car and begins the short trek across the lot to get to the building.

\---

Lunch is both Louis’ favorite time of the day and his least favorite. It’s his favorite because he gets to eat and hang out with Niall and Liam. He has one class with each of them and, in his opinion, that’s not enough. So lunch is the place they can all hang out and talk about their plans for after school because at least two of them hang out every day without fail. The three of them are insanely close, more like brothers than best friends.

Liam and Louis had met years ago; back in year five. They had instantly bonded and pretty much become attached at the hip. And in year eight, when Niall had moved to Doncaster all the way from Mullingar, Ireland, the two immediately accepted him into their group and the three had been best friends ever since.

But lunch is also Louis’ least favorite because that’s when he sees _him_. “Him” meaning the most beautiful creature Louis has ever laid his eyes on. Meaning actual sex on legs Harry Styles. With his lean torso, long legs, gorgeous green eyes, luscious brown curls, and lips that look like they were made specifically for giving blowjobs, Louis is so far gone for the kid.

But Harry Styles isn’t exactly aware of Louis Tomlinson’s existence. Louis is just another faceless boy in a sea of students who admire him. Students who put Harry up on the highest pedestal possible. Harry has a certain reputation around school; one that’s filled with one-night stands, parties, and alcohol. Although it isn’t a reputation he’s necessarily proud of, everybody in school obeys him. Harry has a certain charm about him. A charm that allows him to get both girls and guys alike into his bed. Harry always gets his way and nobody ever questions it. Nobody really fears him. They are more intimidated if anything. He very rarely fights and, when he does, it’s for a completely logical (as he puts it) reason.

Everybody wants to get on his good side. Wants to impress the boy with the badass attitude and seemingly hundreds of tattoos (he only has 54 but, really, who’s counting?) (Definitely not the Facebook group dedicated solely to keeping track of Harry’s latest ink.) (No, seriously.) (It’s an actual thing.). Harry isn’t “mean” per say but he most certainly has his anger issues. Rarely does his anger turn into a physical fight but he isn’t one to bite his tongue.

He’s a brooder, filled with attitude. An attitude that, for some reason, draws people in. Which is exactly why Louis finds himself staring at the menacing boy as he makes his way into the cafeteria. He thinks, he _thinks_ , Niall is in the middle of talking to him about the new Fifa game that’s coming out next month but Louis’ mind is elsewhere. Which doesn’t come as a shock to Liam or Niall. Because Louis literally does this _every day_. They’ve pretty much grown accustomed to Louis’ trances whenever Harry walks into the room.

Harry strides into the cafeteria, sinfully tight skinny jeans and all. His hair is tousled in that beautiful way he’s perfected over the years. It sits in a perfect pile on top of his head and Louis is really curious as to how he manages to get it to stay like that. And _wow_ Louis finds him so goddamn attractive.

“Lou. Louis. Lewis,” Liam practically yells, trying to break through Louis’ haze of _HarryHarryHarry_.

“What?” Louis snaps, turning his head back around to face his awaiting friends.

“You didn’t hear a word we said, did you,” Niall more states than questions because he most definitely already knows the answer. Louis is just so hung up on Harry. Even though he has never so much as said two words to him.

Louis shakes his head, not even ashamed of his answer. Niall then proceeds to take a bite from his rather large slice of pizza (but, really, no slice of pizza is too big for Niall), rolling his eyes playfully at Louis.

“Well we _were_ asking you if you were going to the party tonight,” Liam says, looking at Louis expectantly.

Louis takes a sip of his water, furrowing his eyebrows at his two friends. “What party?”

“Mate, you seriously cannot be that oblivious,” Liam chides.

“It’s Harry. He’s too in love with Harry to pay attention to anything else,” Niall comments through a mouthful of pizza, earning a smack on the head from Louis.

“Well, are you gonna tell me about this party or can I go back to _not_ staring at Harry?” Louis asks, raising his eyebrows in anticipation. And he really hopes the two won’t call attention to Louis’ obvious subject change. Because _no_ Louis is not in any position to confirm or deny his feelings for Harry. Even though he _is_ pretty obvious. But Louis isn’t about to say as much.

“You are so ridiculous,” Niall teases, taking another bite of the greasy food.

“So, yeah, tonight? Zayn’s party? You in?” Liam questions.

Louis makes a face, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t think so. I’ve got a lot of homework to do this weekend.”

Liam’s shoulders visibly sag, giving Louis his infamous puppy dog eyes. And _oh god_ Louis still has yet to learn how to say no to that. “Oh, come on Lou. You haven’t been out in ages.”

“Two weeks ago. I went out with you two weeks ago Liam,” Louis says in a bored tone, holding up two fingers to solidify his point.

“Details,” Liam says dismissively with a wave of his hand. “So you comin’ or what? C’mon. You have to. It’s gonna be, like, the biggest party of the year. Everyone who’s _everyone_ is gonna be there.”

And Louis really shouldn’t. Really, though, he actually does have mounds of homework he needs to get done. But, truthfully, it’s more of a want than a need. Because all the assignments he’s planning on doing aren’t due for quite some time. He just wants to get a head start. But with Liam and Niall both staring at him, silently begging him to agree with looks of pity all over their faces, well, Louis can’t exactly say no can he?

\---

Louis has to leave for the party in ten minutes and he has _nothing to wear_. Well, that isn’t exactly true. He has a closet full of decent enough clothes but nothing is catching his eye and, let’s just say, he is in full-on panic mode.

His hair is done, styled in a careless ease that actually took about an hour to do. He can’t help but think about Harry’s hair (yet again). And he’s not even the least bit ashamed.

Since it’s a party, Louis decides to forgo his glasses and, instead, pops in his contacts which he isn’t a huge fan of. His eyes are sensitive and the little lenses always irritate them. But this is a _party_ and Louis doesn’t want to look like a nerd. Even though his glasses are far from the typical “nerd frames”.

Now he’s standing in front of his closet, shirts and pants thrown carelessly around the room. And, after getting the text from Niall saying they were going to be at his house in ten minutes, Louis doesn’t know what to do. This is a serious dilemma and Louis is kind of sort of freaking out.

So as the minutes tick by, Louis reaches out a blind hand and grabs one of the shirts he hadn’t managed to throw yet. It’s his grey Saint Kidd shirt and _alright_ he supposes that will have to do. He quickly throws it onto his body and then pulls on a pair of (maybe) too-tight black skinnies and he is finally complete. And just in the nick of time as, right when he pulls up his zipper, he hears a honk from outside. Grabbing his phone and wallet from his bedside table, he runs downstairs. He pulls on his black Converse, shouts a quick goodbye to his mom, and he’s out the door.

\---

Louis doesn’t go to the party with many expectations. He knows he will simply drink a little, listen to the music, and then find a spot outside that has been vacated so he can simply be by himself. He loves the party scene, he really does, but sometimes it can be too much. He has certain limits and boundaries that he isn’t willing to test. So he’s usually a drifter, walking in and out, saying hello to a few people he knows and then going back outside.

Which is exactly where he finds himself about an hour into the party. For an October night, it’s surprisingly warm. And Louis is content. He manages to find a lone stone bench, tucked behind a rather large bush.

Zayn is, to put it bluntly, fucking rich. His house is huge and in a beautiful part of town. A part of town Louis can only dream about living in. One day, whenever his writing career takes off and he becomes a New York Time’s best seller, this neighborhood is exactly where he wants to spend the rest of his days.

And, to top it off, Zayn’s family has a beautiful garden in which Louis is currently sitting in. He’s nursing some cherry flavored drink, the sweetness of it almost drowning out the taste of alcohol. But it’s definitely still there and it has left Louis feeling slightly light-headed. This will be his last drink, he decides. He will probably be the one driving, responsible for bringing the three boys back to Liam’s house for the night. Louis knows what hitting the legal limit feels like and he knows he’s close. The boys probably aren’t even going to be leaving the party anytime soon, knowing his friends, so he has some time to let the alcohol wear off before he gets behind the wheel.  

Usually, when Louis hides away from the party, nobody bothers him. Nobody talks to him in school anyway so why would outside of school be any different?

But tonight clearly isn’t a usual night.

In the distance, Louis can hear footsteps crunching against the grass, his brain only somewhat registering the noise. He doesn’t really think anything of it, dismissing it as someone looking for a place to get away from the party for a bit. And he definitely doesn’t blame the stranger. That music is loud and there are seemingly hundreds of people cramped into Zayn’s living room. But, as the footsteps get closer and seem to slow down, Louis pays a little bit more attention.

Louis turns his head in the direction of the stranger’s footsteps, peeking around the bush he’s pretty much hidden behind. He takes a sip of his drink right as an all too familiar mop of curly brown hair makes its way into Louis’ field of vision.

And Louis actually, literally chokes on the sickly-sweet liquid. He coughs repeatedly, pounding a heavy fist against his chest. Because fucking _Harry goddamn Styles_ is standing right in front of him, frame illuminated from the bright lights of the house behind.

He’s dressed simply- plain white t-shirt, black skinny jeans to match Louis’, and a single silver necklace with some kind of charm hanging off the end. From this distance and the lack of light, Louis can’t quite make out what it is. All he knows is it’s glistening ever so slightly in the dim light and it’s resting on Harry’s delicate collarbones and _wow ok_ Louis really should just stop right there.

“You ok?” Harry suddenly asks once Louis gains control of his choking and _oh_ Louis wasn’t expecting his voice to be that deep. And gravelly. And sexy. Like _holy shit_.

The silence is heavy around them, Louis somehow not able to form words. He sits there, staring up at Harry in all his late night glory. His mouth is gaping open, eyes wide and unblinking. He snaps back into reality because, oh right, Harry asked him a question. A question about his wellbeing, mind you. And that shouldn’t make Louis feel as giddy as it does.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine,” Louis stammers. One part of Louis wants Harry to just walk away and leave him be because he’s _Harry_ and Louis is honestly so infatuated with him. But another, bigger, part of Louis wants Harry to sit down beside him and ask him questions about his life and wrap his arm around his waist and give him deep kisses all along his neck and _ok_ Louis is done thinking. Forever. Like seriously. No more.

Harry starts to walk even closer to Louis and _no no no_ this can’t be happening. Because he’s _Harry_ and Louis is _Louis_. Their worlds should not be colliding like this. They were never _meant_ to collide. They exist in different universes, different galaxies. Harry needs to leave right now before some cataclysmic event happens which leads to the end of both of their worlds. Ok, well, Louis never claimed to be a rational person.

To Louis’ amusement and slight horror, Harry takes a seat on the bench beside him, not even bothering to ask if this is alright. Even though Louis would have probably screeched out a yes if he had asked. Or maybe he would have run away. Or thrown up which would have ended with him simply blaming it on the alcohol. Even though it was all Harry’s fault because _ugh_.

Louis watches him with careful eyes as the curly haired stranger slowly turns his head to face Louis, green meeting blue and smirk meeting terrified smile. Harry’s body is way too close to Louis’ but Louis is so comfortable. And aroused. That too. He can feel Harry’s body heat radiating off him, the warmth practically seeping into the fabric of Louis’ clothes. This outfit will forever be weighed down with Harry’s essence, Louis decides.

“So what’s your name?” Harry asks, voice all sultry and so, so smooth. _Fucking hell_ Louis was seriously not prepared for the sound.

“I’m, uh, I’m Louis.”

“I’m Harry. But, from the way you practically choked to death earlier, I’m assuming you already knew that.” _Wow_ this kid has some confidence. Confidence that Louis can’t help but be immediately drawn in by.

“I… yeah I know who you are. But I… uh, choked… because… because my drink is just really strong,” Louis says, voice barely audible. Because he’s just so _nervous_ and he doesn’t know what to _do_.

Without warning and before Louis has time to protest, Harry grabs the drink right out of Louis’ hand, taking a huge swig from it. He pulls a face, frowning down into the cup and furrowing his eyebrows. “This is fucking weak, mate.”

Louis looks down at his lap, unable to meet Harry’s piercing eyes. Because they’re so green, Louis can tell even in the low light, and just so beautiful.

“Let’s get you a real drink,” Harry insists, standing up with Louis’ drink still in hand. He throws it to the side, drink flinging in little droplets onto the grass, red cup landing a few feet away.

Louis stares up at him because _what_. Is Harry seriously. Did he just. _Oh god_. “I-I really shouldn’t,” Louis attempts to dismiss but Harry’s not having it.

“I insist,” Harry says, extending a hand in invitation. Louis gapes at him for what could be years before placing a gentle hand in Harry’s giant paw and standing up from the bench.

Albeit pathetically, Louis tries to get his hand out of Harry’s firm grip but Harry isn’t having that either. Because the two boys make their way back towards Zayn’s looming house with their fingers intertwined and with Louis’ heart beating a mile a minute. And Louis can’t help but notice just how well their hands seem to fit together. He attempts to memorize the sensation, knowing for a fact this will be the last time he ever feels it.

Harry leads them both inside, greeting people along the way and practically dragging Louis behind him. It’s not that Louis doesn’t _want_ to hang out with Harry. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. But the overwhelming fear and anxiety he feels around this boy is weighing his muscles down and making it difficult to move.

Eventually, the two make it to the kitchen where the music is, for the most part, a dull thud in the floorboards. Louis looks around the room and gasps. Every drink imaginable is laid out on the counter, in coolers, and in buckets. Harry goes straight for the various liquor placed on the countertop, grabbing a bottle of clear liquid. Louis doesn’t drink much but it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. Vodka. _Of course_.

Harry sets about making a drink for Louis, pouring a generous amount of vodka into a red plastic cup before mixing in another darker liquor into it as well. This isn’t going to end well, Louis already knows this. He really hopes either Niall or Liam (and he’s betting more so on Liam) aren’t drinking very much and will be able to drive because, as long as he’s around Harry, he’s going to wind up far from sober. Definitely not fit for driving.

Louis has never had problems saying no. If he doesn’t want to do something, he’s not afraid to say so. But Harry just makes him feel so _different_. Harry isn’t someone Louis is able to say no to, for some odd reason. And while this revelation should scare Louis absolutely shitless, he actually feels comfortable. Intimidated, sure, but comfortable all the same. 

So when Harry finally finishes his magical concoction, Louis reaches out an eager hand and takes a rather substantial sip. Harry watches him closely, eyes practically piercing right through Louis’ skin. The warm drink slides down Louis’ throat, leaving a thick lining in his throat, burning the entire way down. His face scrunches up in disgust, the taste absolutely atrocious.

“Good?” Harry asks. And _wow ok_ Harry is standing really close to Louis and he isn’t really sure what he’s supposed to do with this.

Louis shakes his head, thrusting the cup back at Harry. “It’s awful,” Louis chokes out. Harry trails his eyes down to the cup and then back up to Louis’ eyes. Harry’s gaze seems to turn even darker (which Louis didn’t even think was possible) before shaking his head.

“You’re drinking the rest of it,” Harry says, tone one that prevents any further discussion. Louis gulps visibly, finding it hard to hold Harry’s gaze. He’s so fucking _frightening_ it’s not even _funny_. Louis honestly finds himself feeling overwhelmed just from having Harry staring at him like this. Louis nods marginally, realizing that _yeah ok_ he’s actually prepared to do anything Harry asks of him. This can’t be healthy.

But Louis just doesn’t c _are_.

“So how come I’ve never seen you around before?” Harry questions, angling his body towards Louis. This kid definitely knows what he’s doing. And it’s because he has had loads of practice, Louis tries to remind himself. Don’t get caught up, _don’t get caught up_.

“Um. I-I tend to fade into the background. Nobody really pays much attention to me,” Louis says honestly. And _yeah ok_ Harry’s question kind of stings. Figures the boy Louis has fallen so deeply into didn’t even know of his existence until tonight.

And Harry suddenly is standing really close to Louis. And Louis suddenly can’t breathe. Louis watches as Harry reaches a hand up, touching his cheek much more gently than Louis was expecting.

“I’m surprised. A sexy thing like you deserves to be noticed,” Harry whispers, leaning his forehead against Louis’. The shorter boy gulps, eyes looking up every few seconds. His cheeks are on fire, heart pretty much pounding right out of his chest. He should feel terrified. Should feel like he wants to run away and hide. Because that’s what Louis’ always done. He’s never really had a serious boyfriend and has only been kissed twice in his entire life. One of which was with Liam.

When Louis had first brought up the idea that he might be gay to his two best friends, he was undeniably scared shitless. He wasn’t really sure if he was or not and he had been hoping that maybe Niall or Liam could help point him in the right direction. So while Louis had been in the middle of rambling about how he _just didn’t know_ and he _was so confused_ and he _didn’t know what to do_ and _how was he supposed to tell people_ and _what was his mother going to think_ , Liam had leaned forward and kissed him.

Liam’s lips had been slightly chapped and a little too firm for Louis’ taste but, in the end, he realized that lips like Liam’s were much more appealing than any woman he had ever known.

Louis is snapped back into reality when he feels Harry’s lips trailing down his exposed neck. His eyes close of their own accord and his body subconsciously bucks forward slightly, as if the lack of contact between their bodies would cause an instantaneous death.

“H-Harry,” Louis breathes, voice lost in the air and dull roar of the party in the other room. With a final bite above his collarbone, Harry pulls away and looks at Louis, eyes wild and hungry.

“Consider yourself noticed,” Harry says, voice low and wrapping around Louis like smoke. And Louis definitely _does not_ visibly shiver at that.

\---

Four drinks (all prepared meticulously by Harry) and heaps of conversation later, Louis is feeling less than light-headed. The room is spinning, his eyes bleary, and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have legs anymore. Louis has only been drunk a handful of times in his life so this is not a feeling he’s accustomed to.

Harry realizes after Louis’ second drink that he isn’t the type to get drunk on the regular. Which is exactly why he’s been feeding him drink after drink, each time becoming easier to convince the blue-eyed boy to _just have one more_.

Ok so _yeah_ maybe Harry’s taking advantage of Louis’ innocence just a bit but a little party never killed nobody right?

Currently, Louis is laughing about the way Harry’s jeans have a rip in one of the knees (and Harry isn’t really sure why that’s funny) and leaning his entire body weight on Harry. Which Harry doesn’t exactly mind, per say.

Louis downs the last of his drink, throwing his head back to try and get every last drop. Which doesn’t exactly help his balance so he somewhat stumbles backwards. Thankfully, Harry reaches out a hand and grabs onto Louis’ tiny waist, steadying him. Louis slams the now empty cup onto the counter, staring up at Harry. There’s a faint line of alcohol on his top lip, easy smile playing across his features.

“’Nother!” Louis practically screams. The alcohol is doing wonders to his nerves, conversation with Harry remaining relatively easy throughout the night. They talked about their families, friends, relationships, and everything in between. So, at this point, Louis is comfortable with Harry- whether it be because of the alcohol coursing through his veins or the fact that Harry has simply been easy to talk to, he’s not quite sure.

So when Harry leans into him for about the twentieth time that night, whispering that they should go dance, _well_ , Louis can’t exactly say no. Couldn’t even if he wanted to. Because Harry isn’t about to take anything besides yes as an answer. But even though his tone is threatening and intimidating, Louis isn’t the least bit frightened.

Harry grabs Louis’ hand, locking their fingers together. And, once again, he notices that w _ow_ their hands fit really well together. Louis really shouldn’t find that as exciting as he does but, well. He’s quite drunk at the moment and has never claimed to have much restraint when it comes to Harry. He leads them out of the kitchen and into the living room where the main party is taking place.

The makeshift dance floor is packed with drunkenly swaying bodies, couples and friends alike. There are people making out, grinding all up on each other, laughing, and drinking. Some remix of Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” is currently playing and, although Louis has never been much of a fan of hers, he can’t help but sway his hips along to the beat as Harry continues to lead him towards the middle of the dance floor. He spots Niall on the way, seeing him making out with some brown-haired beauty whom Louis is willing to bet he just met tonight.

The two finally make it to the middle of the room, a lot of the couples readily moving aside once they see Harry making his way through the crowd. A few strange looks are thrown their way once they see Harry with _Louis_ but they quickly avert their eyes once they see Harry’s warning glares.

Harry puts his hands on Louis’ waist, allowing Louis’ butt and Harry’s crotch to meet. Normally, Louis would be much more conservative and wouldn’t grind up on the kid but, after four drinks, Louis doesn’t exactly know what inhibitions are anymore.

Louis moves his hips sinfully to the beat, pressing his butt (which he’s very proud of, mind you) into Harry. Harry’s grip tightens by the second, the boy being in absolute shock that Louis can move like this. Louis’ body rocks side to side, irresistibly rolling his hips harder and harder in Harry’s hold. Harry leans his head down, burying his face in the crook of Louis’ neck. His lips find their way onto Louis’ skin, sucking and nibbling at a spot that makes Louis’ head roll back so it’s now resting on Harry’s shoulder, eyes closed and breathing unsteady. Harry’s chest is hard against Louis’ body but he absolutely adores the feel of it. Their bodies seem to fit so well together, made for each other, two puzzle pieces finally finding each other. Louis is in absolute bliss.

When Louis feels Harry’s cock growing hard underneath him, he spins around in his arms like the little tease he is. Well, like the tease he _can_ be when he’s absolutely _drunk off his ass_. Harry’s lips abruptly leave Louis’ neck, eyes meeting Louis’ devious gaze. Lust overcomes Harry suddenly as he crashes his lips against Louis’, bodies melting together. His hands move from Louis’ hips to grasp onto the sides of Louis’ face as the kiss becomes deeper. Louis’ alcohol-heavy arms clasp easily around Harry’s neck.

Louis doesn’t think. Doesn’t think about what he’s doing. Doesn’t think about the repercussions the action may have. Doesn’t think about how goddamn hungover he’s going to be tomorrow. Doesn’t think about the multiple pairs of eyes probably watching the two boys practically devour each other in the middle of the dance floor.

Because Harry’s in his arms. And he’s in Harry’s. And that’s all the matters at the moment. And it’s not like his drunken brain will allow him to think about or make much sense of anything else.

The two boys kiss for what feels like hours, finally pulling away as “Alive” by Krewella plays over the sound system. Their lips are swollen, cheeks flushed from both alcohol and lust. Through the shouts of the crowd and the sloshing in his ears, Louis hears Harry whisper, “Bedroom.”

And suddenly Louis feels a thousand times more sober. And suddenly Louis’ brain is clear and thinking once again. His eyes focus on Harry who looks positively heavenly in the flashing lights. And, suddenly, Louis wants him. Wants him so badly it hurts. And so Louis nods and allows Harry to lead him towards the stairs.

Harry pulls him along, leads him down to a doorway at the very end of a long hallway. Harry throws the door open to find another couple in the middle of a make out session sitting on the bed in the center of the room, bodies illuminated by a lone lamp that had been turned on resting on a bedside table.

“Out,” Harry growls lowly. Although his voice is barely audible, the preoccupied couple manage to hear him. They snap their heads in Harry’s direction and, once their eyes meet Harry’s menacing gaze, they immediately push themselves off the bed and scamper out the door.

Harry shuts the door behind them with a quiet click, eyes snapping to Louis. He’s swaying slightly on his feet and his eyes aren’t exactly focused but he’s still somewhat coherent. He’s drunk enough to agree willingly to whatever Harry says but sober enough to remember the night’s events tomorrow morning. Harry’s got him exactly where he wants him.

“You’re mine now,” Harry says, smirking slightly and walking closer to Louis. He puts his hands on Louis’ waist and presses his lips against the innocent boy. As they kiss, Harry begins to walk them backwards, inching closer and closer to the awaiting (and rather inviting) bed. He flicks off the lamp once they reach it, leaving them in complete darkness.

And that’s when Louis’ nerves kick in full force. Because _wait a second_ he’s actually about to have sex. With Harry. _What_? It isn’t until Harry pushes him backwards onto the bed and climbs on top of him that Louis finally finds his voice.

“H-Harry. Harry wait,” Louis pathetically argues. Harry, surprisingly, halts his movements. He looks down at Louis who is staring up at him with fear shining brightly in his eyes.

“What’s the matter?” Harry asks, voice surprisingly comforting and caring. And Louis definitely was not expecting that.

“I… I just, uh, haven’t done anything like this, uh, before,” Louis slurs out, voice uneven.

Louis expects Harry to simply smirk and say something along the lines of “You won’t be able to say that once I’m done with you”. He expects his voice to get lost in the cotton sheets beneath them. He expects to wake up tomorrow morning filled with nothing but regret.

But nothing about tonight has been going according to plan so far.

“What do you want to do?” Harry suddenly asks. And _wait what_. Harry brushes Louis’ fringe out of his eyes, looking down at him with patience radiating off him.

“I… I don’t know. But I, god Harry, I want you,” Louis practically whines and _ok yeah_ that’s kind of embarrassing. But Louis is drunk and so, so turned on.

“I won’t hurt you. I promise. Just trust me,” Harry says, positioning his hands on the button of Louis’ jeans. Louis looks up at him with hooded eyes, nodding once in approval. Because, yes, Louis _does_ trust him. And he’s not exactly clear on why.

What the hell has he just gotten himself into?

Harry gets Louis’ pants undone and then begins to slide them off Louis’ tiny frame, Louis arching his back off the bed to make Harry’s job easier. A part of Louis is screaming _nononowhatareyoudoingstopno_ but there’s another part of him, a much bigger part, that’s whispering _do it_.

Next off are his boxers, the cold air viciously hitting Louis’ already hardened cock. Harry follows shortly after, expertly sliding his off and throwing them aside onto the floor beside Louis’. The two boys now lay in nothing but t-shirts and lust and Louis is pretty much just waiting for Harry to kiss him again.

He doesn’t have to wait long before Harry crashes their lips together yet again, as if some magnetic force is radiating between them, pulling them together. They kiss sloppily, Louis reaching his hands up to grab at the curls on the back of Harry’s neck, Harry’s palms pushing into the mattress beside Louis as he attempts to hold himself over the boy.

They soon, somehow, tire of kissing which Louis didn’t really think was possible. Louis watches as Harry slides down so his face is perched right above Louis’ pulsing cock.

“Sit up a bit,” Harry orders to which Louis complies. He props up the pillows until they form a relatively high pile and leans his body into them. Louis stares down at Harry in wonderment, Harry’s eyes meeting his with a sinful look in them. Louis gulps audibly as Harry suddenly goes down on him, taking Louis into his mouth.

Louis was right. Harry’s lips definitely _are_ made specifically for giving blowjobs. And kissing. He’s quite good at that too.

Louis’ cock is engulfed by Harry’s mouth, warmth spreading throughout his body. Louis’ body is completely pliant, willing to accept anything and everything Harry is about to give him. He’s never done anything like this before so his overwhelming ease is a bit disconcerting. But Louis’ in way too deep at this point. Pun not intended.

Ok, pun _fully_ intended.

He should be a comedian. Truly.

He snaps back into reality as he feels one of Harry’s hands begin to massage his balls, kneading one at a time. Harry is _seriously_ way too good at this. And Louis is _seriously_ way too infatuated with this kid.

Louis feels himself getting closer and closer to the edge, the combination of alcohol and new experience being too much for him. So Louis doesn’t think before he murmurs, “Inside me.”

Harry pulls off Louis’ cock with a quiet pop and looks up at the boy with bleary eyes. “You’re sure?” Harry asks, voice absolutely wrecked. And, ok, if Harry doesn’t get inside him soon, he’s sure to come all over the bed. And that’s something nobody wants to see.

Louis nods, looking down at Harry. “M’sure.”

So Louis lets Harry take him, completely getting lost in the feel of Harry inside him and the overwhelming sensation of skin against skin. He reaches his climax within a few minutes, Harry following soon after. Louis knows he should feel some type of regret but, truthfully, he feels euphoric.

\---

Louis wakes up the next morning lying on a mattress and with a blinding headache. He opens his eyes slightly, the minimal sunlight streaming in through the curtains causing a flash of pain to shoot through his head.

To say he’s confused would be the understatement of the century. He picks his head up slightly from the pillow, trying to figure out exactly where he is. Once he sees the Leona Lewis poster on the nearby wall, however, it all comes rushing back to him.

Party. Garden. Alcohol. Harry.

 _Shit_.

Louis groans, flopping his head back onto the pillow. There’s no way that actually. No. He _didn’t_ actually. But as soon as he rolls onto his side and a sharp pain shoots throughout the entirety of his bum, well, there’s really no denying it now.

He turns his back to Leona, facing the bed now instead. Liam’s bed. Which holds a sleeping Liam on top of it. He’s really not sure how he ended up getting here or what exactly happened after him and Harry did… that. But he’s grateful he’s waking up on a mattress on the floor in the comfort of Liam’s room as opposed to a stranger’s bed with Harry.

 _God_ , what has he done? He’s screwed everything up. He lost his virginity to a guy that’s taken more than his fair share. He gave it up to a boy who plays with hearts and tosses them aside. Louis doesn’t understand what exactly came over him last night. Alcohol, of course. But there was something beyond that. At least, that’s what he _thinks_. He’s not too sure how Harry feels about what happened but he isn’t willing to find out. He knows there’s no way he’ll ever be able to look at Harry the same way ever again, let alone talk to him.

Louis really shouldn’t be this torn up about the whole thing. It shouldn’t be bothering him this much. But it’s practically eating him alive and Louis isn’t too sure why that is. Because it’s not like him and Harry had anything remotely going on between them before last night. Sure, Louis had always felt attracted to the kid but he’d always assumed that was one-sided. But there’s a part of him now, laying on the mattress on Liam’s bedroom floor, that makes him wonder if maybe Harry actually _is_ feeling the same way. Somewhere in town, Harry’s probably just waking up too, alone, wondering what happened to Louis and what _will_ happen with Louis.

But no. Louis can’t think like that. Because who’s to say Harry _is_ waking up alone? Who’s to say Harry didn’t shag someone right after Louis left? Who’s to say he’s not in bed with someone else right now, trying to forget about Louis? Who’s to say the sex last night meant anything to Harry? Even though it meant the world to Louis, he can’t get his hopes up. Because he knows for a fact they’re just going to get crushed. The way they always are.

A quiet snore and the creek of a bed breaks Louis out of the little pity party he’s decided to throw inside his head. He looks up then, watching as Liam shifts in his sleep. Always a restless one, that boy. Liam’s constant shuffling while he’s sleeping was the main reason the boys had dragged the mattress in for Louis years ago. That and his snoring. Liam’s bed is huge, you see. And, when Niall was over and already sleeping on the couch in the living room, Louis didn’t really mind sharing the bed with Liam. But, after one or two tries at sharing which resulted in Louis being kicked in the shin and stomach _and_ being kicked completely out of bed on one occasion, the mattress was brought in and that’s where Louis has slept ever since.

Speaking of Niall, Louis looks around the room some more to find Niall passed out on the floor at the foot of Louis’ makeshift bed. That kid really can fall asleep anywhere. Especially when he’s smashed. And, from the sound of his snoring, he’s most definitely plastered.

Louis squeezes his eyes shut, stretching his cramped arms above his head and yawning silently. Thank God it’s Saturday. No school which means Louis can relax and try to nurse this hangover and-

 _Wait no_.

Louis can’t do any of those things because he has to work today and why must the world hate him so?

He throws the light blanket off his body, letting out a sigh of relief when he sees he’s fully dressed. But a rush of panic flows through him when he thinks about _how_ he got his pants back on. Or, more precisely, _who_ put his pants back on. And he _prays to God_ it hadn’t been Liam. Or Niall. Or Harry. He really hopes he had been coherent enough to do it. Although he highly doubts it.

He pats his jean pocket where he last remembers putting his phone and, surprisingly, finds it still there and intact. He takes it out, checking the time to see it’s only going on 8:30 which means he still has about an hour and a half before he needs to head off. He’s opening the store today which sucks balls but, at the same time, it means he only has to work until 3 which is a major plus.

Sitting up slowly, feeling the blood rushing to his head which doesn’t help the already thumping headache he’s got going on, he slowly climbs off his mattress. He tiptoes around the slumbering Niall, making his way noiselessly out of the room, trying not to wake his two friends.

He sets about completing his morning routine, adding extra caffeine and parcetamol in the process, before sitting down at the dining room table to drink his coffee. He always makes it a point to relax a bit before heading to work and this morning is no different. However, this time, his mind and heart are a lot more full than usual.

\---

Louis had gotten his job at the music store back when he was a freshman in high school. His mother knew the owner and, once she had mentioned how interested Louis was in music, he had immediately been offered the job. Now that he was a senior, he honestly couldn’t imagine a better job to have had throughout high school. The owner was understanding of his priorities involving his studies so his hours had always been light. However, because he was a family friend, he got paid rather well. And Louis was beyond grateful for that.

His mom had always told him not to worry about the money. That she would take care of his college expenses. But Louis hated to put all that burden on her, especially considering she had four other kids to put through school. But Jay was just that kind of mother. Louis loved her for it but he wanted to do his part. Which was why most of the money he made working at the store three times a week went straight into his savings. Anything that made his mom’s job easier, he would do. Without question and without hesitation.

Saturday tended to be one of their slower mornings so it was only Louis and a middle-aged woman named Becky who were responsible for running the store for the beginning of the day. Rachel and Mike would be coming in later to take over but, for now, it was just the two of them and three customers. And less traffic meant Louis could control the sound system, meaning he got to decide what was played throughout the store. Today’s selection was a randomized playlist of nothing but The Fray aka Louis’ favorite band. Becky had given him a knowing smirk as soon as he had clicked play and he wasn’t even the least bit ashamed.

The bell above the door chimes at exactly 12:17. Louis’ in the middle of reorganizing the “I” section of the rock category when he suddenly feels a presence behind him. Figuring it’s just a random customer, or maybe even Becky, Louis ignores it and goes back to sorting.

“Hey,” he hears a gravelly voice say from behind him. A gravelly voice he got up close and personal with last night. Louis sees white as he immediately whips around and faces the boy standing behind him. He drops the bundle of Imagine Dragons CDs he’s currently holding, sending them to the floor with a loud clatter. The few other customers turn their heads toward the source of the noise but quickly go back to their mindless browsing.

“Do you have to pay for those if they break?” Harry questions. And _what_.

Louis nods quickly, scooping down to pick up his mess. Harry kneels down beside him, helping him collect the fallen CDs. Once the CDs are all back in Louis’ hands, he begins to place them rather clumsily onto the shelf, not trusting himself to look at Harry as he speaks. “What are you doing here?”

“What? Can’t a guy buy a CD around here without getting the third degree?” Harry asks innocently, leaning his body onto the shelf beside Louis. Louis can feel Harry’s eyes burning into the side of his face but he isn’t about to acknowledge it.

“He _can’t_ if he’s never come in here before,” Louis counters, “and just so happens to make his first appearance after he shags one of the employees.”

“You’ve been on the lookout for me, eh?” Harry retaliates and _oh my god_ there’s just no winning with this kid.

“Seriously, Harry, why are you here?”

“If you must know, I came here to invite you over for dinner at my place tonight,” Harry says smoothly, angling his body even more towards Louis. And _thank god_ Louis managed to get the last CD into place because they sure as hell would have wound up on the floor once again at Harry’s statement.

“Dinner,” Louis states dumbly, “at your place. A-alone?” He looks at Harry then, daring their eyes to meet. In the light of day, Harry looks even more beautiful up close and Louis isn’t really sure what he’s supposed to do with these feelings. It’s too much. Way, way too much.

“What time do you get off?” Harry asks, not even bothering to confirm or deny Louis’ question. But the fact that he doesn’t deny it is confirmation in itself.

Abort mission. _Abort, abort, abort_.

“3.” That’s not aborting the mission _you idiot_.

Harry nods in acknowledgement, reaching out a surprisingly careful hand to brush away a portion of Louis’ fringe that had fallen sloppily across his forehead.

“I’ll pick you up then. Just wait outside for me. Look for the sexy Range Rover,” Harry orders. From his tone and the finality within it, Louis knows there is no point arguing. Not like he wants to anyway.

Wait, yes. Yes, he _does_ want to argue. Yes, he _should_ argue. He can’t let this happen. Can’t let Harry control him like this. But Louis has never been one to stand up for himself. He tends to go with the flow more often than not no matter how much he hates himself for it. And no matter how much he wishes he could live his life differently.

So Louis nods in response to Harry’s command and watches with careful eyes as the lanky boy walks back out of the store.

And if Louis spends the rest of his shift thinking about the boy, well, he’s not about to admit it.

\---

Unlike last night’s air, the weather today includes cloudy skies and biting winds. Louis stands outside on the sidewalk in front of the store, coat pulled tightly against his body. He’s quite thankful Liam had leant it to him that morning as well as driven him to work.

He had sent Liam a text around 1 to let him know that he wouldn’t be needing a ride home and that he had been invited over to Harry’s for dinner. Well, not so much “invited” but, rather, ordered. But Liam didn’t need to know that minor (ok, major) detail. Liam had responded with a simple “Be careful” and then Louis had shut off his phone.

So now, standing outside the store absolutely freezing his balls off, he can’t help the anxiety and anticipation about the coming evening that is quickly beginning to build. He really doesn’t want to do this. Doesn’t want to go through with it. He should just leave. Should just call up Liam and ask him to come get him. But Louis knows it won’t be that easy. Because this is Harry they’re dealing with. _Harry_ who managed to find Louis hiding in Zayn’s garden last night. _Harry_ who probably knows where Louis lives and wouldn’t even hesitate to show up at his house. Louis honestly wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.

Louis’ thoughts come to an abrupt halt when a jet black Range Rover pulls up in front of Louis and comes to a stop. His eyes practically bug right out of his head because what high school student drives one of these? _Harry fucking Styles_ that’s who. And Louis can’t decide which grows more- his hate for the kid or the undeniable love he feels for him.

The passenger side window is then rolled down, exposing Harry in all his afternoon glory. Louis stands there dumbfounded, unsure of what the protocol is for a situation like this. What exactly are you meant to do when the boy who shagged you the previous night parks in front of you and stares at you with anticipation? Is he supposed to simply get in the car? Is he supposed to wait for a proper invitation? Is he supposed to wait for Harry to open his door for him? Because this is basically a date, right? Harry should be a gentleman, right?

 _Ugh_ Louis really doesn’t know what’s happening. And he’s not quite sure if Harry does either.

Because Harry just doesn’t _do_ things like this. At least, not to Louis’ knowledge. Harry’s reputation involves one-night stands. Not shagging and then going on a proper date the next day. But, once again, Louis has _no fucking clue_ if this is a date. And he’s not entirely sure how he feels about all this.

A part of him really _does_ want to run away and never speak to Harry again simply because of the humiliation alone. But there’s another part of him, a much bigger part unfortunately, that actually _does_ want to follow through with Harry. He wants to get to know him, wants to single-handedly make Harry change his ways. But he knows that thinking all these things means he’s putting way too much pressure on himself. Pressure he’s not sure he’s going to be able to cope with.

Harry’s voice pierces through Louis’ confusion and debate with a low, “You comin’ or what?” And Louis doesn’t even hesitate before he’s climbing into the seat beside Harry, the car a much welcomed warmth.

Harry locks the doors once Louis is inside and he can’t help but begin to panic. On the inside, of course. He’s not about to show Harry how terrified he is about this whole situation. Can Harry smell his fear? He wouldn’t doubt it.

“How was work?” Harry asks way too nonchalantly. He’s acting like him and Louis are all buddy-buddy. As if last night didn’t even happen. As if the sexual tension in the car isn’t about to crush every bone in Louis’ body.

“S’fine,” Louis says with a nod, not daring to look over at Harry as he begins to pull away from the curb. “How was your day?” Ok so _yes_ Louis is absolutely scared shitless about the prospect of being alone with Harry tonight but that doesn’t mean he can’t be polite.

Harry shrugs, _so fucking casual_. “Alright, I suppose. Quite long. Got rather impatient waiting around to come get you.”

Louis swallows carefully, trying desperately not to choke from Harry’s bold statement. _Bold_. That is definitely a good adjective to describe the character sitting beside him.

“Why are you doing this?” Louis finds himself saying before he even realizes what’s happening. “What are you trying to accomplish here?”

“What, did you expect me to just fuck you and run?”

Louis bites back his _yes obviously yes_ and, instead, remains silent.

“I hate to break it to you, sunshine, but I’m not going anywhere.”

\---

The two sit in a rather awkward silence (well, it’s awkward for Louis) as Harry drives the two of them to his apartment. Yes, _Harry’s_ apartment. As in _just his_. As in nobody else lives there. He’s not really sure how Harry is able to afford his own place as well as the Range Rover. His family must be loaded. Either that or Harry’s part of a gang. Both are pretty likely in Louis’ mind. He wants to ask Harry about his seemingly endless supply of money but, if Harry actually _is_ in a gang, does that mean he has to kill Louis after he tells him the truth? He’s not too sure and he doesn’t exactly intend on finding out.

Harry parks the car in front of a rather nice looking apartment complex which, Louis notes, isn’t too far from Zayn’s place. The two get out in silence and they walk side by side to the front door, Harry walking a little too close to Louis. Their hands brush a bit and Louis can’t help the jolt of electricity that rushes under his skin. They make their way up to the apartment, neither of them speaking until Harry shuts his door behind them.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Harry says with a grand sweep of his hands. Louis kicks off his shoes by the door before looking up and taking a look around. It’s a decently sized place, cream colored walls and white carpets. They’re currently standing in the kitchen which leads to the living room which then continues to a hallway. It’s a lot cleaner than Louis was expecting. He had walked through the door expecting there to be crushed beer cans and empty takeaway boxes. But, aside from a few dishes in the sink, the kitchen is spotless. And he’s assuming the rest of the apartment is no different.

“Must be nice having your own place,” Louis comments as he makes his way forward and sits at one of the stools placed at the breakfast bar. Harry walks towards the fridge then, opening it and grabbing two beers, handing one to Louis. Louis takes it gratefully, cracking it open with a familiar pop. Harry leans his body against the counter, looking at Louis as he pops his beer open as well. He shrugs noncommittally.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I get pretty lonely.”

And Louis pretty much guffaws at that.

“I highly doubt that,” Louis says, not really caring how rude he sounds right now. What’s the worst that can happen? Harry can get mad and kick him out? Good. It’s not like he wants to be here anyway. Ok, maybe he does a little. Ok, fine, _a lot_.

Harry takes a sip of beer and narrows his eyebrows, the two lines of hair practically forming a single strand on Harry’s forehead. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asks, sounding more intrigued than irritated.

Louis shrugs, taking a swig as well. “Everybody in school talks about your… romantic life.”

Harry’s eyes darken and Louis honestly feels threatened. “And you believe everything you hear?”

Louis looks at him, confused. Because no. Those couldn’t just be rumors. No fucking w _ay_. Harry was… Harry. And everybody knew that. “Well… yeah…”

Harry takes a sharp intake of breath, slamming a fist down onto the countertop, making Louis flinch. “Well don’t. Because I guarantee that at least 95 percent of what you’ve heard is a complete load of bullshit.”

“I-I’m sorry. I just assumed-”

“You assumed that I’m a heartless, cheating asshole who sleeps with everything that has legs.”

“No, uh, n-no of course n-”

“I know about the rumors that go around,” Harry says, tone suddenly serious and calm. He looks down at the counter, running a single finger around the rim of his beer, “but I’m shocked that you of all people believed them.”

Louis stares at him, unsure of what he’s meant to say. “Well, you didn’t expel dispel those rumors yesterday.” And Louis has no idea where this confidence is coming from.

Harry looks up at him then, an unknown emotion playing behind his eyes. If Louis didn’t know any better, he would call it hurt. “Do you regret what happened last night?” Harry suddenly asks.

And Louis has to stop and think about that. He stares into Harry’s eyes, trying to figure out what his answer to this question is. This very _loaded_ question, at that. Because _yes_ Louis wishes he hadn’t given his virginity to a boy who’s no stranger to them. But, at the same time, Harry made him feel so _good_ and _loved_ and _ugh_. 

“I wouldn’t exactly say I _regret_ it. Last night was… well, it was amazing, Harry. Truly. The only thing I regret is letting you get me drunk off my ass.”

For the first time since Louis met him last night, Harry actually _smiles_. It’s rather small but it’s a smile all the same.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you got drunk. I just made the drinks,” Harry teases.

Louis rolls his eyes at that because _oh come on_. “Yeah, you _just made the drinks_ and then you pretty much forced them on me.”

Harry holds up his hands in mock surrender. “You still could have said no.”

“Not when you were… looking at me like that,” Louis says, gesturing vaguely to Harry’s face.

“Looking at you like what?”

“Just… I don’t know. You do this… _thing_ with your face,” Louis attempts to explain and _ok yeah_ he sucks at this.

“And what exactly is that?” Harry questions, tone too confident. This kid _knows_ how to reach inside your heart and infect it with all these feelings. He was just so _charming_ and _ridiculously adorable_. But it’s not like Louis’ about to tell him that.

Louis attempts to do the face then, narrowing his eyebrows just the slightest the way Harry does and tries to radiate menace and power. But, apparently, he doesn’t do it right because Harry starts laughing. And not just like a little snicker but, rather, a full-on belly laugh that Louis reallyshould not find as endearing as he does. He watches in awe as Harry’s face lights up, little crinkles forming beside his eyes as they squeeze shut and mouth opening wide to expose perfect teeth. The sound of Harry’s laughter echoes around the kitchen and Louis can’t help it when he begins to laugh along. He probably should feel offended that Harry’s laughing at him but he just can’t seem to tap into that emotion.

Louis likes this; laughing with Harry. It’s so easy, so natural. He could definitely get used to this. Harry just seems… different. Different than the person Louis assumed he would be. But, like Harry said, most of what he’s heard has simply been rumors. Rumors that Louis was foolish enough to believe. In Louis’ defense, Harry never seemed to make an effort to help his reputation. But maybe Harry simply wanted to be the bigger person. Maybe he just _didn’t care_ what people said about him.

And Louis’ quickly discovering that maybe Harry isn’t all that bad.

\---

“No. No way. How could you even say that? Are you fucking insane?”

“ _I’m_ insane? Are you _kidding_ me?” Louis says around a mouthful of food.

“You can’t actually think that,” Harry says, slumping backwards in his chair.

Louis raises his eyebrows in disbelief, pointing his fork accusingly at Harry. “Hate to break it to you, young Harold, but yes, I _do_ actually think that.”

Harry drops his fork onto his plate with a loud _clank_. “First off,” Harry says while holding up one finger, “my name isn’t Harold so don’t _ever_ call me that.” Louis smirks. “Second of all, for the last time, Monica and Chandler are a _much_ better couple than fucking Ross and Rachel.”

Louis slurps his spaghetti loudly, shaking his head adamantly. “You are so delusional. I mean, _come on_ , it’s _Ross and Rachel_. _Rachel and Ross_. One of the greatest TV couples of all time.”

“They just don’t _work_ together. They’re complete opposites,” Harry argues.

“Oh, and Monica and Chandler aren’t?”

“Well, yeah, but they complement each other. They _appreciate_ each other. They’re like, I don’t know, a balance. They’re both a little crazy but it just _works_. Unlike Ross and Rachel,” Harry says matter-of-factly.

“They had a _baby_ together. Obviously their relationship works. Rachel got off the plane for Ross. _She got off the plane_ ,” Louis says exasperatedly, hitting his palms dramatically onto the table.

“Alright. That’s it. You’re coming with me,” Harry says, pushing himself away from the table.

Louis looks up at him with confusion, taking the final bite of the delicious pasta dish Harry had prepared for them. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going to watch _Friends_ and I’m gonna prove to you that Monica and Chandler are, in fact, the better couple.”

Louis watches as Harry begins to walk in the direction of the living room before he stops in his tracks to look at Louis. “You comin’ or what?”

 _Well that’s a little too familiar_.

\---

About nine hours later, the two have finished an entire season of the show and s _till_ can’t agree.

“But, like, Ross was willing to go to prom with Rachel just so she wouldn’t have to go alone,” Louis had argued.

“Yeah, but Chandler was actually able to settle down with Monica even though he had that fear of commitment,” Harry had retaliated.

“Don’t forget that he _did_ run away before the wedding. And Ross and Phoebe had to convince him to come back. Oh, plus Ross said Rachel’s name when he was marrying Emily.”

“Ok, but even though he couldn’t dance, Chandler still danced with Monica at their wedding just to make her happy.”

So now, the two are all argued out and Louis is absolutely exhausted. They’re about halfway through the next season when Louis begins to feel himself nod off. He’s not entirely sure of the time. All he knows is that it’s late and he’s gotten texts from both Liam and Niall asking him when he’s coming home, to which Louis simply says he doesn’t know. Honestly, those two are worse than his parents.

Louis must fall asleep because, suddenly, he’s being shaken awake by Harry who asks, “You tired?” Louis opens his eyes to find his head now resting on Harry’s shoulder. He promptly picks himself up, looking at Harry’s shoulder to see an oh so lovely patch of drool on it. Great. Just great. He self-consciously wipes his mouth, trying to get rid of any evidence of his awkward sleeping habits but, from the smirk playing across Harry’s features, he’s pretty sure he notices.

“A little bit,” Louis replies sheepishly. “Mind driving me home?”

Harry purses his lips and shakes his head. “You’re sleeping here tonight,” Harry says, tone filled with finality.

“W-what?” Louis stammers, eyes bulging wide. Harry leans forward to grab the remote on the coffee table, shutting off the TV, leaving the room in complete darkness apart from the sliver of street light creeping in through the curtains.

“I said, you’re sleeping here tonight. C’mon. I’ll find you something to wear,” Harry says and walks out of the room, leaving Louis to sit there completely dumbfounded. No. This is not about to happen. He’s _not_ going to spend the night with Harry. _Absolutely not_. If he was drunk, he’d most likely be singing a completely different tune. But tonight he’s more than sober and he’s not about to go through with this.

“Louis, come on!” Harry shouts from down the hall. Louis easily could get out of this. He could simply call Liam and ask him to come pick him up.

Does he want to do that? _Yes_.

Is he going to do that? Well, from the text he sends Liam that says “ _staying at harry’s tonight c u tomorrow_ ”, it looks like he’s spending the night.

He pushes himself off the couch, stretching his arms above his head to work out any kinks that had formed in his body since they sat down to watch _Friends_. He feels a sharp pain shoot throughout his bum; a rough reminder of what had happened with Harry the night before. _God dammit_ , this really shouldn’t be happening. But, for some reason, it is and Louis’ not entirely sure why he’s not stopping it. Why he doesn’t _want_ to stop it.

He walks down the hallway until he comes across a door that’s partially open. He steps into Harry’s bedroom which looks exactly the way he was expecting it to. His walls are a deep blue, posters of The 1975, Pink Floyd, and Nirvana littering them. Louis even spots a poster from the 2011 Leeds Festival which, coincidentally, was the exact one Louis had attended. A king-sized bed, a bureau, a side table, and a desk are all placed neatly and orderly around the room in their respective spots. It’s mostly clean apart from a few random articles of clothing but the bed is made and there aren’t any suspicious smells coming from anywhere. Louis is pleasantly surprised.

“Here. You can wear this,” Harry says, tossing Louis a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants once their eyes meet.

“Thanks,” Louis says in a small voice. He’s quite nervous and uneasy about all this. “I’ll just, um, go change.” Louis ducks his head and walks down the short hallway until he reaches the bathroom, shutting the door quickly behind him and leaning against it. He lets out a deep breath, closing his eyes. _C’mon Louis, pull yourself together_.

He’s just spending the night with Harry. Alone, sure, but unlike last night, he’s sober and he’s not about to let Harry do anything to him tonight. He quickly changes into the clothes Harry gave him, sliding his phone into one of his newly acquired pockets, and makes his way back to the bedroom where he finds Harry sprawled out on the bed, looking at Louis expectantly.

“Do you have a toothbrush I could use?” Louis asks, nervously fidgeting with the dirty clothes in his hands.

“Yeah,” Harry replies as he pushes himself off the bed. “You can just plop those by the door if you want.”

Louis nods, doing as told. He follows Harry back to the bathroom where they brush their teeth side by side. Once they’re done, Louis says a quiet “Goodnight” before heading towards the direction of the living room.

Harry suddenly grips him by the elbow, pulling him back. “W-what are you doing?” Louis asks, fear building from the firm hold Harry has on him. Both literally and figuratively.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Harry demands, voice dark.

“I was, uh… back to the living room?” And Louis really hates how it comes out as a question as opposed to an answer.

“D’you really think I’m gonna let you sleep out there? No. Let’s go. You’re sleeping with me.”

Louis gulps visibly, staring at Harry’s chest as opposed to his eyes. Harry snickers, snapping Louis’ gaze up. “Not like _that_. I figured two nights in a row might be too much for you. You’re waddling.”

Louis’ jaw drops and he stares at Harry in horror. But he doesn’t argue. Instead, he lets Harry lead him back into the bedroom. He hesitates at the foot of Harry’s bed as he watches the curly-haired boy climb under the covers.

“Get in,” Harry says in a rather gentle tone. Louis nods once and obliges, slipping into place beside Harry.

Harry turns off the bedside lamp then, cloaking the room in a threatening darkness. Louis’ breathing is uneven, heart pounding, and he’s pretty sure Harry can both hear and feel his uneasiness.

“G’night Lou,” Harry slurs, the nickname slipping off his tongue before he can even process what’s happening.

“Goodnight Harry,” Louis replies after quite a long pause.

Louis lays awake as Harry begins to settle in, listening to his falling asleep noises. The quiet snuffling, the deep breathing, and the rustling of sheets somehow bring Louis comfort. Soon enough, Harry’s breathing deepens and evens out, signaling to Louis that he has finally fallen asleep. Louis closes his eyes then, feeling a sense of ease for the first time since Harry showed up at the store that afternoon. He lets out a deep breath, trying to free his mind enough to get some rest.

Suddenly, he feels Harry’s body begin to shift beside him and then he feels the boy cuddle into his side. Louis’ eyes pop open with a sharp intake of breath. Harry throws his arm around the smaller boy’s waist, legs tangling with Louis’, head falling easily in the crook of Louis’ neck. Harry mumbles something unintelligible, the words getting lost in Louis’ skin before he’s settling down. His breathing evens out once again and deep snores soon start up.

Louis can’t help but smile at the sound and at the overwhelming comfort of having Harry wrapped around him. He closes his eyes out of pure contentment and soon finds himself giving in to the pull of sleep.

Louis’ never slept so well in all his life.

And when the two boys have lazy morning sex the next day, well, Louis knows there’s no turning back now.

\---

Things are easy for the next five months. The two boys continue on with _whatever the_ _fuck_ this relationship/friendship is in comfort. They never have a conversation about what they are and, frankly, Louis is far too content with where he is now to try and figure out exactly where that is. They’re constantly by each other’s sides in school and they almost always spend time together after the final bell rings each day. Louis’ new “thing” with Harry has granted him more attention from the student body and, for the first time in his entire life, Louis doesn’t dread going to school anymore. Because Harry has never failed to make it clear to everyone that he and Louis have _something_ going on so, as a result, people have come to accept Louis. He’s included in so much more now, invited to more parties and greeted more in the hallways. He hasn’t walked with his head down in god knows how long and this newfound freedom is a beautiful thing.

One fateful night in March, Harry invites Louis to join him at Zayn’s house the following evening. The weather has been beautiful lately and Zayn wants to welcome the coming of spring with a bonfire at his place. It’s a tradition for Zayn and all his closest friends, one of which has always been Harry. And, now, that includes Louis too.

Louis climbs into Harry’s car that evening expecting the night to be great. He’s looking forward to snuggling up to Harry by the fire and drinking too-warm beer and chatting with Harry’s friends who, over the past few months, have become Louis’ friends as well. Zayn’s even invited Liam and Niall along, something the two of them can’t quite believe. They had heard about Zayn’s bonfires (well, everyone _knew_ about them) but getting an invite was next to impossible. But ever since Louis and Harry had become LouisandHarry, well, things had changed. Dynamics had changed.

There aren’t as many people around the fire as Louis is expecting. He and Harry walk up to see Zayn, Liam, Niall, and two girls from school named Perrie and Jesy. A chorus of “hey” sounds once Louis and Harry approach, hands intertwined and bodies pressed together.

The night is easy and Louis is warm. His body is leaning against Harry who has his arm around Louis’ shoulders, a can of beer grasped tightly in one of his hands while the other is entangled with Harry’s. Conversation flows, laughter is heard, and stories are exchanged. Louis wishes he could just stay here forever. He’s comfortable, peaceful. And it’s all thanks to Harry.

Harry who’s brought him out of his shell and opened his eyes and heart to life. Harry who’s the most beautiful person Louis has ever had the privilege to get to know. Harry who Louis never wants to lose.

Around 11:30, Zayn and Harry decide to go into the house to get another round of beers for everyone. While there’s an easy lull in conversation while the two boys are gone, Louis makes his way towards the house as well, intending to simply use the bathroom. All that beer has gone straight to his bladder and he’s about ready to explode.

What Louis is not intending is to see Zayn propped up on the counter with Harry between his legs, making out like there’s no tomorrow.

And Louis runs. He runs back outside and demands Liam and Niall drive him home.

He doesn’t look back.

And Harry doesn’t make him.

\---

It isn’t until mid-June, after the boys have graduated from high school, that Harry decides this silence and unresolved tension between him and Louis needs to end.

Because Harry _misses_ him. More than he ever thought he would. He regrets what happened with Zayn. He wants to blame it solely on the alcohol but, in reality, he knows his mistake can’t entirely be chalked up to that.

Because Harry had gotten scared. Scared of what was happening with Louis. Scared of how he felt when he was with Louis. He needed a way out. And Zayn’s lips seemed like his only escape.

On a whim, Harry decides to go into town and pick Louis up whom he knows should be getting off work soon. He drives his Range Rover to the music shop with the intention of finding Louis, taking him back to his place, and showing him just how sorry he is for all that’s happened. How much he wants him back. How foolish he was for kissing Zayn.

But when Harry pulls up and sees Louis hugging another boy outside his workplace, Harry knows he’s far, far too late.

\---

July comes sooner than Harry is expecting.

Neither boy has made a move to talk to each other about what happened even though they both know they need to figure everything out. It’s been a whole month since Harry had seen Louis and that boy and he’s been _fucking miserable_.

Alcohol has become his new best friend. He’s been trying to take the pain away, trying to drown the memory of blue eyes and brown hair and a little tummy and a school-girl giggle. But even hard liquor can’t chase away the images of _dates with Louis_ and _sex with Louis_ and _laughing with Louis_.

When Harry hears a knock on his apartment door, he doesn’t walk up to it with many expectations. He doesn’t even bother looking through the peephole, figuring it’s probably Zayn. Or his mother. Considering he hasn’t returned any of her calls or texts recently, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if she showed up at his door.

But Harry opens the door only to find blue eyes. Eyes that seem to hold a lot less life than they did the last time Harry saw them this close up.

“Can I come in?” Louis asks, voice fragile and wary.

Harry stares at him in shock but manages a small nod before stepping aside to let the frail boy in. Louis shuffles forward, sitting down on his usual stool at the breakfast bar. Harry stands on the other side, watching Louis intently.

“We… uh. We have some things to talk about,” Louis speaks up, eyes staring down at the countertop.

Harry nods, unsure of what he should say next. So he waits for Louis to speak.

“H-how are you?” And Harry almost laughs at that. Almost.

“Awful,” Harry answers honestly. No use sugar-coating anything at this point.

Louis snaps his head up at him, anger taking over his features. Harry’s never seen him like this. Never seen him look this hateful. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” Harry questions, unsure of why Louis is acting this way.

“What… what fucking _right_ do you have to say you feel awful? I had to fucking watch you _make out_ with Zayn! I think I have more of a right to feel angry about this whole thing,” Louis snaps, eyes wild.

“You don’t think I have a right? Louis, I saw you with him last month!” Harry shouts back at him.

Louis furrows his eyebrows in hatred and confusion. “With who?”

“That… that guy! I saw you hugging some guy in front of the music shop. Last month. I’m sure you remember,” Harry says as he feels his own anger beginning to build.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be hugging another guy if you hadn’t kissed Zayn. What the fuck were you thinking Harry? Why did you do it?”

And Harry knows it’s time to lay all his cards on the table.

“I didn’t like the person I was becoming with you. I was losing my fucking mind, Louis. I never could stop thinking about you. Whenever I was fucking somebody else, I thought of you and I couldn’t-”

“Wait. You were… you were fucking somebody else when you were with me?” Louis’ voice shouldn’t be this small. And his feelings shouldn’t be as hurt as they are. And his heart should not be breaking apart and falling to the pit of his stomach right now. Louis knew Harry was seeing other people. He _knew_ it. But he didn’t want to _acknowledge_ it. The thought had simply been festering somewhere in the trenches of his brain but, of course, Louis hadn’t wanted to think about it.

“That’s not the point Louis. The point is… I don’t want anyone else. I want you. God, Louis. You were the first person I’ve ever been able to restrain myself with. When you said you hadn’t had sex before, I just, _god_. I wanted to fucking ravage you into the mattress. But I _didn’t_ Louis. I waited for you to give me fucking _permission_. And that’s what scared me. I’ve never been able to control myself like that before.”

“I’m flattered. Truly,” Louis says, tone dripping with heavy sarcasm.

“Will you just _listen_ to what I’m saying?!” Harry shouts causing Louis to flinch.

“I _am_ listening. What do you want me to say Harry? What do you fucking _want_ from me? Do you want or _expect_ me to just run back into your arms? Because, news flash, that’s not gonna happen. You hurt me Harry. You hurt me so bad. I can’t just forget everything that’s happened the past few months.”

Harry shakes his head in disbelief. “And what about the months before that, huh? Did they mean nothing to you?”

“Did they mean nothing to _you_?” Louis returns.

Harry recoils visibly, body bouncing back. “Do you wanna know what I want?”

Louis nods once. “Do tell.”

“I want you to forgive me. I want you to tell me you love me the way I love you.”

Louis shakes his head, feeling the tears he’s been trying to fight back quickly fill his eyes. “No, Harry. You… you can’t just… you can’t just _do_ that.”

“Why the hell not? I love you, Louis. I fucking _love_ you so much, it hurts.”

“Who are you to say that? Who the _fuck_ do you think you are? Harry, I gave you a chance. I put everything I had into our… whatever the hell we had. But you gave me nothing. Absolutely nothing.” And now Louis’ crying. _God dammit._

“And I’m sorry I didn’t see that. I’m sorry I was too selfish to realize what I had. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so unbelievably sorry. But I see it now. I can’t change the past Louis, as much as I wish I could. What matters is now. And _now_ is when I love you. _Now_ is when I need you to come back to me. Just forgive me. Please. You’re all I have.”

And _wow_ Louis really wants to forgive him. Wishes his life was like fan fiction where things always work out the way they’re supposed to. Wishes him and Harry could be together in this lifetime. But they just _can’t_. This isn’t the way things are meant to go.

“It’s too late,” Louis whispers. He walks away from Harry then, leaving the curly-haired devastated boy behind.

\---

They find Harry’s body in his apartment three days later amidst a pool of vodka and his own vomit. Alcohol poisoning, they said.

Louis never did get a chance to tell him the truth. To tell him that, yes. _God yes_ Louis loved Harry more than he could even fathom. And that the boy he had been seen with was nothing more than an old childhood friend that had recently moved back to Doncaster. A very _straight_ friend, mind you. And that he was so, so thankful Harry found him in Zayn’s garden at that party.

Because Harry opened Louis’ eyes to life. Taught him to live on the edge, to not be afraid to take chances. To put all his heart into something even if there was a chance that it could get broken. Because, sure, Harry broke Louis’ heart. But, at the same time, he awakened it. He made it new, gave it life. His heart had run on autopilot for so long, never accepting new people. Louis went through his life like a robot, like he was nothing but a machine. A mechanical heart that Harry was able to revive.

His mother always told him to never keep his feelings inside. To always express how you felt no matter what. But Louis had always been too afraid. Too afraid to open up. Too afraid to emote. But Harry showed him that his mother had always been right.

He wishes things had ended differently for Harry. For _them_. But the lessons Harry taught him would never be forgotten.

So when Louis marries a beautiful boy a few years later, he makes sure to look at the sky as he’s walking down the aisle. He sends a silent thank you up where he knows for a fact a beautiful green-eyed boy is looking down at him, watching him live a life that wouldn’t have been possible without him.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts can be submitted either in the comments below or on my Tumblr (realizedyouweremissing).
> 
> Oh, and be sure to follow me on Twitter (@cherishedlarry) to keep up with all my daily shenanigans.


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